


Challenge Accepted

by SOMNlARl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [7]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And Cullen is kind of a workaholic, Blow Jobs, Dorian doesn't do boredom well, Established Relationship, I love Cullen wearing glasses OMG why isn't that canon?, M/M, Modern AU, One Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:13:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3784483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dorian. Will you please, for once in your life, shut up? It’s 3 am and I have got to finish this fucking paper.”</p><p>“Why don’t you come over here and make me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge Accepted

**Author's Note:**

> for an anon prompt on tumblr; "Come over here and make me." i just had to use it as an excuse to write my hipster college babies again. Sorry for the lack of detail but these were meant to be short, little one-shots. 
> 
> if you like it, let me know?
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger - come play with me!

Dorian simply doesn’t _do_ boredom well, he never has. Despite that, tonight he is terribly, desperately bored. He was supposed to be out with his boyfriend, but no. Cullen had sat down this morning with hardly as much as a _by your leave_ , promising a rain check because he just had to get this paper done right now. 

And he was, sadly, as good as his word; he’d been holed up with his laptop working on an essay - one that wasn’t even due for another week, thank you very much - all day. it was the one thing that drove Dorian absolutely up the wall about him, that earnest sense of responsibility Cullen brought to everything even when it was _so fucking unnecessary_. 

Dorian had tried to be good, patient; he had even started on his reading for the coming week but the assigned chapters for his Introduction to Logic course were unbelievably dull. He was so bored. 

Rolling over onto his stomach, feet up in the air, he sighs dramatically and tosses the book onto the floor with a clatter. Normally he’d feel a bit guilty, treating a book like that but this one? It was clearly asking for it. He shifts uncomfortably on the mattress, trying to will away the growing hardness in his jeans. 

“Cullen.”

He doesn’t get an answer, just another round of furious typing from across the room. He tries again, a little louder. Maybe Cullen hadn’t heard him the first time.

“Cullen.” He tosses the first soft thing he can find - Cullen’s wadded up Replacements t-shirt he’d slept in the night before - in the blond’s direction but it unfurls halfway through its journey and falls to the floor with a wholly unsatisfying _whump_. 

“ _Venhedis_!” He hisses, a scowl pulling at the corners of his lips. That gets a response, but just barely; the blond raises his head and tosses him a small, apologetic grin then turns right back to his work. More typing. _Maker’s balls_ he hates that noise; why Cullen couldn’t just type quietly, like a normal person was beyond him. But no, everything had to be a production with him. 

He picks the text up from the floor and flops back on the bed. He opens the book and tries to concentrate but the words spin and trickle into each other until he’s dizzy. He drops the book again, harder this time; purposefully. Cullen twitches at the noise and Dorian takes advantage of his momentary distraction. 

“Cullen. Stanton. Rutherford.” The use of his entire name usually jerks Cullen out of whatever state or mood he’s in but tonight it doesn’t, the blond’s back to hunting away at the keyboard almost immediately. Dorian sighs and shifts again. He pulls at the button of his jeans and eases them down below his hips. 

Nothing. Time to break out the big guns.

“Cullennnnnn.” An imploring whine; that always works. 

And it does. 

This time he gets an exasperated groan for his troubles as the blond looks up from his laptop, pushes his glasses up to rest at the top of his head and rubs at his eyes. Dorian feels a tiny twinge of guilt and pats the empty spot next to him in what he hopes is an enticing way, his other hand playing at the waistband of his boxers. 

“Come to bed?” He asks hopefully. 

“Dorian. No.”

“No, no. Haven’t you learned anything by now? The proper response to being invited to fuck me is always _Dorian, yes_.”

“I can’t. Not right now. I’m so close to done.” Cullen yawns and turns back to the screen, the light from it illuminating the dark circles under his eyes. 

This was ridiculous, Dorian thought. So he crossed the small room, weaving his way through discarded piles of clothes and papers and books, nearly tripping over the combat boots Cullen has left in the middle of the floor. He peers over the blond’s shoulder, scanning the words on the screen quickly, fingers absent-mindedly trailing through his mop of messy curls. 

“Cullen. What is this? This doesn’t even make sense. And that last paragraph? There’s not a complete sentence in the entire thing. Which is doubly impressive because it goes on for nearly an entire page.” Cullen make a small noise of protest as Dorian smacks the back of his head with a hand. 

“It’s fine, Dorian. Just give me another hour, okay?”

“Turn that damned thing off this instant and come to bed.” He stalks back across the room and lies down after kicking off his jeans, glaring at his boyfriend who is not joining him but is instead trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn into his fist. Again. “Now.”

“Dorian. Will you please, for once in your life, shut up? It’s 3 am and I have got to finish this fucking paper.”

“Why don’t you come over here and make me?”

Silence. 

Dorian pulls the blanket over his head and rolls over grumpily to stare at the bare wall of their bedroom. 

Suddenly the mattress dips next to him with a familiar weight and then there are strong hands firmly rolling him back over, legs straddling his own. 

“Challenge accepted,” Cullen breathes as he presses a kiss across Dorian’s lips. “Think your mouth might just need to be otherwise occupied for you to shut the fuck up.”

Dorian hums a quick noise of approval, fingers fumbling at the fabric of Cullen’s jeans as he eases them over his hips. No underwear, easy access; he smirks, momentarily grateful for the blond’s habit of going commando. 

“I think you might just be right, Amatus,” he whispers as he takes the man’s glistening head into his mouth, smirking as he meets Cullen’s wide-eyed stare. He sucks gently at the tip, flicking his tongue expertly against the head. 

The whine that Cullen lets out is absolutely delicious and Dorian laughs as he takes the blond deeper into his mouth, one hand against his hips pressing him back towards the wall, the other teasing at the swell of his balls. 

Cullen throws his head back as Dorian’s tongue wraps around his shaft, his head bobbing up and down with long, slow strokes. He hears himself let out a low moan deep in the back of his throat and tries not to buck his hips forward. He’d fail if not for the strong hands pressing against him, holding him still. He bites hard at his lower lip, tasting the sweet metallic taste of blood as he looked down at Dorian; swollen lips wrapped around his cock, a look of utter reverence written across his face. 

Cullen trembled and whimpered, writhed beneath the sensation of Dorian’s touch, ever-quickening as he neared his climax. As the younger man took him deeper - lips tightening around him - head thrusting against the back of his throat, Cullen reaches out to tangle his fingers through the dark, disheveled strands of Dorian’s hair. Not pulling, not tightening, simply holding on; if he didn’t he knows he might just fall to pieces. 

“Dorian, I…. ah!” Cullen tries to warn him of his impending release but as Dorian gives one last lick up his length he spills over into his mouth. Dorian closes his eyes and Cullen swears he feels a smile twitch across the younger man’s lips as he reflexively swallows the warm, bitter sweetness of him. 

“That was…” he rasps as he lies back against the pile of waiting pillows, clearing the thickness of overwork and exhaustion from his throat. “Fucking incredible.”

Dorian smirks as he curls in behind him, trailing a hand up the blond’s back into the unruly curls at the base of his neck. 

“Go to sleep, Amatus.”


End file.
